


Favoritism

by sahiya



Series: A Deeper Season [18]
Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Bujold
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Porn, a deeper season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-21
Updated: 2009-12-21
Packaged: 2017-10-04 19:39:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sahiya/pseuds/sahiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You know, I'm not sure this is fair to the other Imperial Auditors. I think this might be favoritism."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Favoritism

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much to [](http://quietann.livejournal.com/profile)[**quietann**](http://quietann.livejournal.com/) for beta reading.

"I hate committees." Miles threw his Auditor's chain down on the bed and pried his boots off one by one by stepping on the heel. Slightly shorter and somewhat quieter, he stomped off toward the bathroom.

"Everyone hates committees," Gregor replied mildly, glancing up from his handviewer. It was almost midnight – the meeting had gone a full _four hours_ over schedule.

"No," Miles said, returning to stand in the threshold. He looked disheveled and mutinous in his bare feet and untucked shirt and yet strangely sexy. Gregor knew better than to say so at that particular moment, however. "Henri Vorvolk likes them. He gets this – this glint in his eye. It's sick." He disappeared back into the bathroom, but his muffled voice floated out. "Isn't there anything else right now? Something urgent or bizarre or – or _anything_ besides this?"

"I need you on this," Gregor said calmly.

There followed several minutes of loud silence. Gregor watched as Miles stomped out of the bathroom, went to throw himself down on the bed, and stopped, suddenly. "You," he said, glaring at Negri, who was stretched out on Miles's side of the bed. "Off. Now." Negri's ears flattened, but he didn't move. "Don't thwart me tonight, cat."

Gregor frowned. "Miles, did something . . . happen?"

"No. Just get _your_ cat off _my_ side of the bed." He started unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and rummaging through his dresser for clean sleepwear with the other. Gregor said nothing for a moment, but dutifully picked up a protesting Negri and deposited him outside the bedroom.

"There. Better?"

"Hmph." Miles pulled an old ship knits shirt over his head.

"Miles . . ."

"I haven't seen our kids in forever because of this damn thing. How are they? Are they ready to write their memoirs and expose us as negligent parents?"

Gregor crossed his arms over his chest. "You saw them this morning, Miles. And I was with them all evening. I don't think they're feeling neglected simply because you had one late meeting."

"Just you wait for the memoirs." The shipknits were much too big for him, but he didn't seem to notice as he threw himself onto the bed with a tragic, martyred air. "And I get to do it all over again tomorrow."

Gregor sighed. "I'm sorry?" he offered.

"Not good enough."

"Well . . ." Gregor trailed off. "How about sexual favors?" he finally said with half a grin.

Miles's head came up instantly. "Really?"

"What? I wasn't –" Gregor stopped. That was truly a remarkable shift in mood. "Um."

"You can start with a backrub," Miles said, stripping his shirt off and turning over. "While I try to give you some idea of what it was like to be at this meeting."

Gregor smiled wryly and knelt beside him on the bed. He walked the tips of his fingers down either side of Miles's spine and began working the muscles in his lower back. Miles let out a long sigh, relaxed, and turned his face to the side – to make good on his threat, Gregor quickly discovered.

_. . . Ten minutes later . . ._

"And then Henri said that the five year projected budget wouldn't support a project of that size. And Racozy replied that –"

"Miles, Miles, stop, dear God, please stop. I have to have some will to live left in order to –"

"Blow me?" Miles suggested cheerfully, craning his neck around to look at Gregor.

"Yes. That."

"Well, all right, then." Miles sighed and let his head fall back to the mattress. "Keep rubbing."

"You know, I'm not sure this is fair to the other Imperial Auditors. I think this might be favoritism."

"Damn straight it's favoritism. And your problem would be what?"

"Nothing."

"I didn't think so. Mmm. Yes, there." They fell silent, Gregor silently working his back up Miles's back, kneading the tension out of the tightened muscles in his shoulders. It must have been a very bad meeting indeed.

Miles was almost asleep when Gregor finally rolled him over onto his back and kissed him. "Hmm," Miles said, waking up slowly.

"Did you want to go to sleep?" Gregor asked.

"I can always stay awake for this," Miles said. He stretched and yawned briefly, and settled back against the pillows. Gregor kissed him again, lightly brushed his lips against the side of Miles's neck making him shiver, and began slowly moving down, inching the too-large shipknits over Miles's hips as he went. The mess of scars on Miles's chest was almost completely insensitive, but kissing and licking the hollow of his hip made the muscles in his thighs twitch and forced small, involuntary noises from his throat. Gregor suddenly felt the need to draw things out as long as possible, and spent several minutes switching back and forth, from hip to hip, pausing in between to blow lightly on Miles.

Miles whimpered. Gregor smiled. "You fucking tease," Miles moaned. "Will you get on with it already?"

"Patience is a virtue," Gregor said calmly, though his own hands, gripping Miles's hips, were starting to shake and his breath was coming rather unevenly.

"Yeah, right, just su – aaaahh!" Gregor licked a wide swathe up and swirled his tongue around the head. Miles went tense and gripped handfuls of the sheets. His hips spasmed under Gregor's hands, once, twice, and Gregor waited until he'd calmed slightly before swallowing him down. Miles swore and arched his back, his hands finding his way into Gregor's hair. He was careful not to grab too hard, just stroking lightly with trembling fingers. Gregor closed his eyes, sucked lightly as he pulled up, and felt Miles's hands tighten. They fell into a rhythm, familiar and steady. Up, sucking, a swirl around the head, and then down quickly.

Miles's hands clenched and unclenched in Gregor's hair. It hurt a bit now, but Gregor didn't care. He raised his eyes and saw Miles, head thrown back, throat exposed, the two white scars on either side of his neck. Sweat had broken out over his chest, which was rising and falling raggedly, rapidly. He groaned, long and low, and the sound went straight to Gregor's groin. He moaned around Miles, who gasped and thrust suddenly.

"Sorry," Miles managed. He lifted one hand and weakly brushed sweaty hair out of his eyes. "Wasn't ex – expecting that."

Gregor didn't answer. He decided it was time to get a bit more serious. He sucked harder this time, and snuck a hand back to press against that tiny spot, just behind. Miles gasped and his entire body jerked, including the hand in Gregor's hair, but then he loosened his grip and patted Gregor's head apologetically.

Up, sucking hard now, tongue swirl around the head with its bitter taste of fluid, and then down. Gregor's jaw was starting to ache, but he knew Miles was very close, he could tell by the taste and the sounds, and the way his hips were starting to thrust regularly beneath Gregor's hands. Rhythmic, gasping cries, and then Miles's back arched and there was a single, barely audible, "Gregor" before Miles came.

Gregor slowly eased off his rhythm, until Miles's entire body lay limp and twitching with aftershocks. Gregor crept up next to him and lay his head on Miles's chest, listening to his heart beating away beneath his ribs.

"Uhh," Miles said after perhaps five minutes of silence. Gregor smiled smugly to himself. "That was . . . holy hell, that was like . . . top five. Ever."

"Only the top five?" Gregor asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh shut up." Miles ran a hand through his sweaty hair.

"So you won't complain about the committee anymore?" Gregor asked, snuggling close.

"Won't complain 'bout anything anymore," Miles promised, curling towards him. "Never."

"Anything?"

"Mmm."

"In that case . . ." Gregor turned and started to swing his legs out of bed.

"What are you –? NO! Gregor, if you let that cat in I swear to God I will leave you. That damn cat always ruins the afterglow." Miles gave an indignant sniff. "Come back here and hold me or I am leaving and taking the children with me to go live with Mother."

Gregor laughed and crawled back into bed, pulling the covers up over them both. "I wasn't really going to let him in."

"Right. It's a good thing you're in my good graces right now."

"Hard not to be, after that."

"Don't be smug."

"Top five?"

"At least."

"Is there any particular order to the top five?"

"Oh for God's sake, Gregor, I'm going to sleep. I have a meeting in the morning."

_fin._


End file.
